<p class="ql-block">Over the past few weeks, I've been neck - deep in the trenches of academia, tasked with the monumental job of reviewing thirteen master's theses. It's been a real rollercoaster ride, let me tell you. You know how they say, "You can't judge a book by its cover," but in this case, the quality of these theses was as plain as the nose on your face right from the get - go. Some of them were absolute gems, shining bright with fresh perspectives and rock - solid research, the kind that makes you think, "Now, that's what I'm talking about!" On the flip side, others were more like a house of cards, teetering on the verge of collapse, in desperate need of a major overhaul. It was a true test of my critical eye, and I found myself constantly reminded of the old saying, "The proof of the pudding is in the eating" - or in this case, the strength of an academic argument lies in its details.</p><p class="ql-block"> </p><p class="ql-block">Once I'd finally emerged from that maelstrom of marking, I dove straight into the next challenge: crafting in - depth literature reviews for the related PhD theses. This wasn't just about summarizing existing research; it was about digging deep, unearthing the problems that were holding the field back - those pesky thorns in our collective side - and charting a course towards the future. I wanted to lay out the possibilities, to show where this research could go, to inspire the next generation of scholars. It was a labor of love, a chance to contribute to the academic conversation in a meaningful way.</p><p class="ql-block"> </p><p class="ql-block">And then, out of the clear blue sky, life threw me a curveball that I never saw coming. I got the devastating news that my hermana ( /eɾˈmana/, Spanish for "sister") and cuñado ( /kuˈɲaðo/, Spanish for "brother - in - law") had been in a motorcycle accident. My cuñado's left lower leg tibia was broken, a painful injury that must have been a real kick in the teeth. The kicker? It had been almost two weeks since it happened, and they'd kept it from me the whole time. I was floored. It made me think of that famous quote from Maya Angelou: "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." I felt a mix of hurt, worry, and a deep sense of helplessness. Familia ( /faˈmiʝa/, Spanish for "family") is everything, as the saying goes, "La sangre es más espesa que el agua" (literally "Blood is thicker than water"), and the thought of them going through such a tough time without me by their side was almost too much to bear. It's a stark reminder that no matter how caught up we get in our own lives, we should always make time for the ones we love. Life is short, and you never know what's around the next corner.</p>